


See You In 2014

by fuckyeahlucifersupernatural



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, season 7
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-16
Updated: 2012-04-16
Packaged: 2017-11-03 18:24:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/384456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuckyeahlucifersupernatural/pseuds/fuckyeahlucifersupernatural
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You’re a long way from Heaven...” He tells him as he runs a thumb down his thigh, drawing a straight line until it meets his bare knee.</p>
            </blockquote>





	See You In 2014

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** This is fan-run and this writer is not officially affiliated with the CW Network, Kripke Enterprises, Warner Bros., and other official affiliates tied to the TV Show "Supernatural." This user does not claim ownership to the official content of Supernatural and does not seek profit off of the work produced presently. Plagiarism of this current story will not be tolerated and will be reported following AO3's terms of service. The stories, additional characters I create, are mine. This story was not created for profit. Making profit is deemed copyright infringement unless sanctioned by copyright holders (i.e. CW Network, Kripke Enterprises, Warner Bros., etc.). Copyright infringement can range from paying a fine to actual jail time. Please do not claim this story as yours! Please do not sell this story! Please do not reproduce this story! All violators will be reported and dealt with severely! 

“You’re a long way from Heaven...” He tells him as he runs a thumb down his thigh, drawing a straight line until it meets his bare knee. It rubs and presses against the socket where bones fit together like marrow-filled puzzle pieces. Blue eyes stared blankly ahead, swimming in tears but it was more of the human body responding to pain than any constructed form of distress or sadness. That was placed on mute, so deeply shoved down that it was somewhere sitting in his stomach, acid eating it alive like carnivorous little jaws. The thumb moves upward and slips to the inside, flesh so smooth and virtually hairless as he moves upward. 

Green eyes were a fluorescent hue that it hurt to even think about them, pupils constricting itself until it was but a dark speck in a sea of blue. Castiel, the angel who reigned for less than a year and unsuccessfully, took in a shaky inhale of air. He could smell blood and if he looked at the white walls before him, he could see it waver in hue from stark white to muddy red. His nose took in the scent and responded with pangs of nausea because the iron of the blood was so strong. But what truly made him sick was how desperate he was to keep the being beside him who was rubbing his thumb into the dip and groove of where thigh meets pubic bone. Rough thumb rubbed, pushing his the leg to the side who his bare legs were parted further. 

Than his vision was barricaded by a familiar face, thick lips pulled into a smirk, freckles splayed delicately across skin in even and spaced areas. “Oh, Cas,” he breathed out and the angel swallowed thickly, “What the hell did you do?” It wasn’t really Dean and Castiel wondered if he played this wrong. He’s been so firm in resisting the image of Lucifer and it worked. His taunts were misunderstood or not comprehensible, the angel so far removed from cultural frivolities humans indulged in. Physically he was impermeable and he had no need to drink or eat. Castiel watched the Devil grow frustrated with him and more sparse. 

Than he was gone. Castiel woke up from his comatose state of being a silent recluse, Lucifer finally gone. Meg must have told Dean the news because in a week the hunter was lumbering in, relieved and hesitant all at once. He spoke of their plight with the Leviathans and claiming he was only here to pull info out of the angel. But Dean’s visits became consistent and Dean jumped from pissed to eager for something to be repaired but too stubborn to admit it. It was six months and six days at six in the evening did Dean open up. Castiel jumped in wholeheartedly, relieved to have Dean’s approval. The angel was devoutly humble for this wonderful turn of events. Physicality's came much later and started slow. Lingering hold here. Fingers brushing against each other. Shoulders bumping. Hugs in the beginning and end. Than a venturous kiss that made Dean huff and scowl even though he initiated it, almost battling with his ego on his sexuality. Castiel remained patient and gushing out in hope. He felt himself being brought back in and he awaited the day he would be able to leave this facility. Cas would wait for Dean’s consent. He would always wait for Dean. 

Aching long months before it evolved from just a few kisses here and there, hands quietly exploring. The first time was slow and tender, the angel disbelieving Dean was capable of such as he was seated on the desk, thumb rubbing at his thigh in affection. Castiel would sometimes wonder why Dean stopped talking about the Leviathans, as if he ran out of information on the matter entirely. Whenever he voiced or questioned, he would be silenced with that thumb that could pull him apart the minute it brushed skin. 

It was a year of feeding off of the firm and grounded attention from Dean did he admit that perhaps he understood the concept of ‘love.’ It was when he accepted as such, that is when it began to crumble. It was when he found out that the entire time he has been bonding with Dean, that it was but a ruse. 

It was Lucifer. 

Lucifer howled with laughter when he broke the news as he was deep inside of him, mouth pressed against his ear, eardrums screaming in abuse. Castiel struggled to pull himself to reality, but everything was unbearably real, so far gone in this fantasy created specifically for him. “You’re a long way from Heaven...” he would murmur, wearing Dean’s face like a glove, thrusts purposeful and too rough. The angel squirmed and gasped, wondering if time evaded him along with the haunting fact Dean never once visited him. He was abandoned. 

Lucifer picked at him like teeth to a chicken bone, peeling off skin and meat. He took his time poking at the great wound in his being, feeling sick to his stomach that all of it was a lie. Being an angel gave him the ability to turn it off, but Lucifer made it impossible. Castiel felt the punchline was still far from being delivered, and he was right. After an unsatisfying lunch, biting into it for the sake of appearances, the Devil gave him a proposition. 

“I honestly think you kinda suck as an angel, Cas,” Dean’s voice issued out, nose scrunching a bit, “I mean...you’re pretty much damn useless. Although I’m impressed on how you completely wiped out the Winchester’s support system. That’s clever. Why hit straight at Sam when you can hit at their surrogate father? Their ally with wings? Oh, and here’s a good one...at Dean. Man have you really screwed him up when it comes to trust. One day he’s going to be drinking himself into an aggressive stupor and hunting me down...well, Sam down. And he’ll come up to me with gun in hand, and I’ll snap his neck with my foot.” It was a promise, and said in an almost fond tone, fingers running through short, brunette hair. 

“I’m really going to enjoy wearing Sammy. Because if Dean breaks, oh does Sam break. He’ll be so desperate to fix his brother because who else is there for him? Bobby? He’s dead. Ellen? Dead. Jo? Dead. John Winchester? Dead. Mary Winchester? Dead. His little girlfriend? Dead. You know what’s real cute is...he had faith in you and faith in angels before Dean. Who was the one who called to you? Who forgave you? The person you helped make it easier for me to take back. Real sweet. I’m getting teary eyed -- which, is why I have a proposition for you.” Castiel hated that he adapted Dean’s speech patterns and mannerisms, hands moving and face saying so much through subtle facial movements. 

“I want you to tear your Grace out.” 

Castiel scoffed and closed his eyes, relaxing against the propped up pillows on the bed. He remained rigid and still, however, chest rising and falling slowly. 

“Or...I erase every memory you have of Dean.” 

Castiel didn’t believe him. Lucifer erased the memory of meeting Dean face-to-face with his human vessel. 

“You’re a long way from Heaven...” Lucifer was murmuring in his ear as Castiel bled on the bed, the wall behind him and the bed scorched and burnt. He felt himself pushed open as he felt so grossly empty and yet whole. It required blood and heavy magic that Lucifer fed him to yank his Grace out. Was this what Anna felt? It didn’t help he had to do the deed with a shard from the mirror in the bathroom, the process slow and messy, knuckles still sore from breaking it.

“Oh Cas, what did you do?” 

Than he was being pulled up, Castiel blinking as he was grabbed by more than one pair of hands. Eyes squinted, images wavering before finding staff members patching him up, shouting words at each other. Eyes caught the sight of a syringe, fidgeting before remaining complainant the minute it pressed into his vein. Words were becoming jumbled, eyes heavy, unable to comprehend what was being said. But Dean remained vivid and vibrant, green eyes boring into his as he was being carted away. 

Lucifer wiggled his fingers in a goodbye, lips pulled into a wide grin. 

“See you in 2014, Cas.”


End file.
